


The Sock Fetish War of 2013

by catlyon



Series: Sock Universe [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Creeper Peter, Creepy Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Funny Hats, Gratuitous use of Tang, Hairy Man Butts, Kinky sex, M/M, Overhearing Implied Sexual Acts, Sock Fetish, Stiles is Clever, Surprise Ending, Threesome - M/M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catlyon/pseuds/catlyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd talks Derek through a tough time while Peter and Stiles are up to sneaky hi-jinks. Erica is a BAMF!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sock Fetish War of 2013

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pixierosedragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixierosedragon/gifts).



> This is for the beautiful and talented [pixierosedragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pixierosedragon/pseuds/pixierosedragon), who was kind enough to gift me a sexy and original work called [Knight at the UC](http://archiveofourown.org/works/943744). (If you haven't read it yet, do [Check It Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/943744). It will Blow your MF mind! Well written, surprising twists throughout and deliciously sexy.)
> 
> My kids were teasing me the other day about hats made from aluminum foil and how they have been proven to stop radio lithium waves or something of that nature. So all the crazies in tin foil hats aren't really so crazy after all. That made me imagine Peter in a tinfoil hat. Which made me think of Peter fucking Stiles while Stiles wore a tinfoil hat. Which made me think of Derek in a tinfoil hat making his grumpy-wolf face. Which made me sit on the floor of my kitchen and genuinely howl in laughter. I might have laughed so hard and so long that I peed my pants. But I will not confirm or deny that rumor.
> 
> From there, this fic pretty much wrote itself. It's terribly silly, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> As with all of my fics, if you have triggers you may assume that this story will provoke them. I am a card-carrying deviant and I write deviant stories. You have been warned. 
> 
> Unbetaed, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> If you enjoy it, comments and kudos are appreciated.

Boyd hefted the 12-pack Erica had given him, exited the first half of the duplex and prepared to knock on his Alpha's door. From inside he could hear Derek's strong voice. “Come in Boyd.”

Boyd let himself into the second half of the duplex and closed the door behind him. He took a moment to wipe his feet on the welcome mat because Peter was fastidious about these things and Boyd really wasn't in the mood for a 90-minute lecture from his Alpha's uncle. He looked around the place, appreciating the simple, masculine interior. Peter may be a crazy uncle, but he had really done the duplex up right.

Scenting his alpha, Boyd followed his nose and ambled into the kitchen. Derek sat at the kitchen table hunting and pecking his way over a laptop keyboard. He wore grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

“Your side of the house looks good.” Boyd commented, dropping the beer on the table in front of Derek. “It was decent of Peter to buy this place and let us live in the other side.”

“Sometimes Peter is a decent guy.” Derek said. “Other times....”

“Yeah.” Boyd said. “Isaac and Allison are still arguing over how to decorate our side. Erica and I, even Scott, we don't really care, but Isaac and Allison are taking it real serious. Every time I walk in the door there's a new stripe of paint on the walls so they can compare it with the others. When they finally make up their minds it'll be nice.”

Derek grunted and then closed the laptop. “When Stiles decided to attend college so far from Beacon Hills, Peter immediately started looking for a place to fix up. He said it was a better investment to buy a place for the next 4 to 8 years, rather than rent one.”

“Yeah, and there's so many colleges and universities around here, the rest of the pack has a wide choice of opportunities.”

Derek nodded. “Yup.”

“Do you think that's why Stiles chose the university he did? 'Cause he knew we'd all be moving here with him and he wanted us to all have a lot of choices in secondary education?”

Derek shrugged. “I stopped underestimating him years ago Boyd. I would say it's very likely that he did exactly that. Plus he could get the criminal justice degree he wanted here. Beacon Hills didn't have anything like that available locally.”

Boyd ripped open the cardboard of the 12-pack. He took out 2 beers, set one in front of Derek and took one for himself. He settled himself comfortably in one of the sturdy kitchen chairs, opened his beer and took a long swallow.

“So, do you want to tell me why Erica shoved this carton of beer at me as soon as I walked in the door and sent me over here to give you her condolences? Or would you rather just drink? 'Cause I can do one or the other and be just as happy either way.”

Derek washed his hands over his face and grimaced. “I'm not sure you really want to know Boyd.”

At that moment Cora sauntered into the room. “Where are t hey?” She whispered, looking back and forth between Derek and Boyd.

“They haven't started yet.” Derek said with a frown.

“Oh good.” Cora said, relieved. “I've got time to get my books together and find my keys. I was worried I'd have to leave without my stuff.”

Cora hugged Derek from behind. “It's temporary big brother. It'll be over before you know it.”

Derek reached up to pat his sister's arm. “I know it. I'll just grin and bear it until then.”

Cora pressed a quick kiss to the top of Derek's head. “You're a good man Charlie Brown.” She quoted then left the kitchen to pack her study supplies and hunt down her purse, or at least her keys.

Boyd cocked an eyebrow. “What was that about?”

Derek shook his head. “Like I said Boyd, you have to ask yourself if you really want to know, because once you do, there's no unknowing it. It's the sort of thing that will haunt you late at night, filling your head with images that you cannot erase.”

Boyd sucked in a breath and took another long swallow of his beer.

Cora skipped back in, arms loaded down with books and bags and keys. “Okay, I'll be at the library with my study group. I probably won't be back until 11. Will that be long enough?”

Derek grimaced again, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at his beer.

“All righty then.” Cora drawled. “See ya' later.” She patted her brother's shoulder kindly and left.

Derek heaved a deep sigh.

Boyd looked at his hands. “Come on, man. It can't be as bad as all that.”

Derek opened his mouth then shut it with a pop as Stiles slid into the kitchen on the slick new tile. Stiles wore rainbow-striped knee socks with individual holes for each of his toes. Each toe was in a separate space, like fingers in gloves, and they were pulled up to his knees. He also wore a baggy pair of Iron Man boxers and what appeared to be his father's fishing hat.

“Hey Boyd.” Stiles said as he slipped a mitten-shaped pot-holder onto his hand and pulled a sizzling batch of batter-fried okra and stuffed-jalapeńos from the oven.

“Hey Stiles, what's up?” Boyd said, eying Stiles doubtfully. Boyd held his breath as he watched the uncoordinated teen carefully slide the sizzling hot snacks into a serving bowl without burning himself. Stiles slipped the pot holder off of his hand and Boyd sucked in a deep breath. He was always amazed at how close Stiles could come to damaging himself without actually doing so. 

Stiles reached into the fridge and jerked out a pitcher of Tang. Boyd watched, waiting for it to splash over the sides and onto the clean kitchen tile. When it didn't Boyd didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved.

Stiles leaned casually against the counter, readjusted his hat and bobbed his head, “Oh, not much. Just a regular, ordinary Tuesday night. Not up to anything really. Certainly not anything sneaky or perverted or obscene. No matter what you've heard. What about you big guy? What brings you here tonight?”

From the other room Peter's voice sang into the kitchen. “Stiles, hurry up. It's almost time.”

Stiles froze for a moment then flailed himself into action, sliding on his socks as he hurried out of the room, arms full of Tang and deep-fried snacks.

Boyd watched him go then aimed a look back at Derek. “What's up with that?”

Derek might have squirmed under the intensity of other man's gaze, but if he did, there was no way he was admitting it.

“Do you know what today is?” Derek asked, eyes down cast, expression grim.

Boyd licked his lips and considered the question. From the way Derek was acting whatever day it was, wasn't good. He didn't think it was the anniversary of the Hale fire. He didn't think it was the anniversary of Claudia Stilinski, Stiles' mom's, death. There wasn't much of anything else he could think of, that would put such an air of despair into the room.

“Nope. I don't.” Boyd admitted.

“Okay, Okay, I'm getting it. Sheesh!” Stiles hollered at Peter as he slid back into the kitchen and banged into the cupboards. Without missing a beat he rustled through the kitchen drawers found the aluminum foil and held it up triumphantly.

“Ah Ha!” he crowed, then glanced at Derek and Boyd who were both looking at him like he was nuts. Stiles' ears grew hot and turned a sharp shade of red. “I'll just be going then. To do nice, normal, Tuesday night things. In there.” He gestured towards the other room with the tin foil. “With Peter. Yup, nice and normal.” Stiles stretched out his neck and then shuffled his stocking feet over the slick floor and out of the room.

Boyd steeled himself. He was going to have to ask questions that he was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answers to. “Condolences, dude. My mate made me bring you beer and offer you her condolences. Something's up man. You've got to spill it.”

Derek groaned and stretched, then helped himself to a second beer. “Okay Boyd, but just remember, you asked. I was willing to sit here and say nothing. Drink a few beers, complain about your roommates, send you back to Erica and let you get on with your life.”

Boyd didn't look very happy. “You make it sound like I should just go back home and forget I ever came.”

===

The two men's eyes met as their werewolf hearing picked up sounds from the other room. Peter chuckled, low and throaty. “What a delight Stiles! You've been such a naughty boy. How do you think I should punish you?”

Stiles responded with a low, stuttered groan.

===

Derek eyed Boyd significantly and snorted. “Pretty much. Yup.”

Boyd glanced nervously in the direction of the front door. “She won't let me back inside without details Derek.”

Derek scowled. “That's one advantage to dating guys. They do not send you out to gather the latest gossip from the neighbors.”

Boyd gestured in the direction of Peter and Stiles and looked doubtful. “Nah man. I've seen Peter gossip like an old woman at a church social. He may not be sending you out to gather it, but he can still gossip with the best of 'em.”

Derek nodded. “Okay, yeah. I'll give you that one.”

Boyd grinned. He waited a beat before saying, “Okay Derek, whatever it is. No matter how bad. Spill it. 'Cause I can't go home till I know.”

Derek looked down again. “Do you remember our first pack overnight here? When the duplex was still a shit-hole and needed a lot of work.

Boyd nodded. “Yeah, it was towards the end of July. I thought this place was going to be so bad. I told Erica we'd have a to rent a place of our own, 'cause there was no way you'd be able to get this place livable in time.”

“It was in bad shape. But Peter has a way of getting things done. I was pretty sure it would be ready in time. Anyway, that first night, we decided to have the first pack movie night? What did we watch? Do you remember?”

Boyd thought back. “On Peter's big-ass laptop. Yeah, I remember. It was a Marvel Movie marathon right? Stiles chose it and the rest of us went along with it because that was better than letting Lydia and Allison drown us in True Blood.”

Derek shivered at the thought of 12 hours of uninterrupted True Blood. “Right and what did all of the movies we watched have in common?”

Boyd was stumped. “Superheroes?”

Derek gave him a look that made him feel about 2-feet tall.

“I don't know man, it was a few of months ago. I don't remember.” Boyd said.

“One man, one actor, was in all of the movies we watched. Do you know who?” Derek asked

“Robert Downey Junior?”

“Nope. He wasn't in Thor.”

“Oh yeah.” Boyd stroked his chin. “I give up, man. Who did all the movies we watched have in common?”

Derek's eyebrows danced the mambo as Boyd watched them and wondered if they might crawl right off his face like wandering caterpillars.

“Agent Phil Coulson.” Derek said with an involuntary shudder.

“Yeah, that's right. The old white dude Agent guy. I remember him. The one who kept his cool even when things got tough.”

“Good, and do you remember how Stiles reacted every time Agent Coulson was on the screen?”

Boyd closed his eyes, recalling the night in question. They had sprawled out with pillows and sleeping bags and joked with each other about being eaten by ravenous spiders while they slept.

“Oh yeah. Stiles stank up the place 'cause he got a boner every time the Agent came on the screen.” Boyd hooted quietly. “Aw man, and Peter was so jealous. Between the arousal and the jealousy Erica was wondering if Peter was going to put any soundproofing in the walls between the apartments. 'Cause whatever freaky shit the two of them get up to, she was pretty sure they would be loud!”

“He did put up sound proofing. With werewolves it's nearly a necessity.” Derek said, deadpan. “I helped install it myself before we drywalled.”

“Yeah, good job on that man. I know Allison, Scott, and Isaac's room shares a wall with Cora and there is no way she would ever get any sleep if she could hear all the kinky crap they do to each other.” Boyd leaned in conspiratorially. “Allison has a purple strap-on dildo that puts grown men to shame. I saw it laying in the bathtub one morning and nearly fainted. I couldn't even touch it. I made Erica pick it up and hang it on their doorknob so I could take my shower. She's good for stuff like that.”

Derek laughed. “Stuff like what?”

“Like strap-on dildos and spiders and things. You know, the gross stuff.”

Derek eyes warmed and he gave his beta wolf an affectionate grin.

Boyd continued. “And do you know what the worst of it was? Erica kept eyeballing that thing all morning and smirking at me and asked me if I was feeling experimental 'cause the sex shop a few blocks over has them on sale. I still don’t' know if she bought one or not. One of these days I'm going to come home from class and she's gonna be wearing it and what am I going to do then? Huh? Where will that leave me?”

Derek snickered. “Don't knock it till you try it man.”

Boyd's eyes opened wide. “You're not telling me that you...? No man. No way. You're the Alpha. There is no way you are taking it up the ass.”

Derek chuckled as he fished out another beer. “All I said was don't knock it till you try it.”

“Man, are you letting Peter fuck you? I always thought you were the fuck-er, not the fuck-ee. God, now I've got that image in my head, you and Peter, and it's not going anywhere.” Boyd swiped at his eyes as if he could remove the image like erasing it from a chalkboard. Sadly, it didn't work.

Derek opened his beer and glanced at Boyd in reassurance. “No man, I'd never let Peter fuck me. He always takes it wrong, makes it about dominance and submission and status within the pack. But Stiles, on the other hand....” Derek licked his lips and waggled his furry eyebrows.

Boyd looked away from his Alpha and groaned. “Aw fuck man, now I've got that picture in my head. I don’t want to know this shit Derek. That's the sort of shit you put up sound-proofing to _keep_ me from knowing. What I _do_ want to know is what's got you so bummed out and what does Agent Coulson have to do with it?”

At the reminder Derek dropped his head back down to consider his fingers as they played with the label on the beer bottle.

“Oh man, I'm sorry.” Boyd said. “But it's like they say, a burden shared is a burden halved.”

Derek pouted, in a totally Alpha Werewolf way that was not at all evidence of the pity party he had been throwing himself all day—or maybe all week.

Derek scraped a hand through his stubbly beard and continued. “Right. So the next night, at my loft, when everyone had gone home and Cora was in bed, Peter interrogated Stiles, _at length_ , about the nature of his attraction to this _other man_ , Agent Phil Coulson.”

Boyd snickered. “When you say at length, do you really mean on the length of his dick?”

Derek frowned and nodded. “Yes, and I was there, because we all slept in the same bed. And I had to listen to Peter obsess compulsively about Stiles' 'duplicitous attraction' to another man.”

Boyd burst out in a full throated laugh. “But Stiles is obviously attracted to you, and you're another man. Hell, we all know you three are doing it like bunnies. I know he's possessive of Stiles, but Peter doesn't seem to have a problem with Stiles finding _you_ attractive.”

===

The conversation paused as they distinctly heard Stiles squeal from the other room. “No Peter. No! Not the Tang!”

===

Derek ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. “Our relationship—it's complicated.”

Boyd snorted. “That's an understatement.”

Derek shot daggers at Boyd, who maintained an innocent grin.

“Look.” Derek said. “Peter's my uncle, my family. And he is not exactly stable. He's better than he was, but he's not always all there, and he may never fully recover.

“I love him. I'm not going to let him turn sociopath on me if I can help it. And Stiles—Stiles keeps Peter happy. Regular sex keeps Peter happy. Fucking the snot out of him on a regular basis keeps Peter happy.”

Derek eyes lit up Alpha red for a moment before rubbed his hand over his face.

Boyd sniffed the air covertly, noted Derek's spike of arousal. He grabbed himself another beer and took the empties to the trash can, giving his alpha a moment to collect himself. “We don't judge man. You should know that, Derek. The rest of the pack, even Jackson and Danny. We know why you're doing it and we don't condemn you man.”

Derek looked up, hope whispering over his features. “Yeah?”

“Yeah man. We're just grateful you've got a handle on him. We're grateful he's not perving on the rest of us. Peter's pack. We know you can't just write him off and let him go all psycho-wolf on everybody. Him and Stiles have this weird thing. And you're part of it, because the two of them cannot be trusted on their own. God knows what they'd get up to if left to their own devices.”

===

From the other room Peter's voice could be heard. “The tin foil Stiles. You need a bigger piece.” Then there was the sounds of a light scuffle before Peter said. “Like this Stiles. Nice and big. If it's too small it won't work.”

===

Derek glanced at Boyd who was grinning, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Someone has to keep them from going all _Pinky and the Brain_ and trying to take over the world.”

Boyd chuckled. “Throw Lydia in the mix and they'd probably do it. Hell, Lydia could do it all on her own.”

Derek nodded. “I wouldn't put it past her.”

“What does Stiles see in Peter anyway? I mean, I get why you and Stiles are together, 'cause you guys always had that sexual tension. But Peter fucking Hale, man? What the hell does Stiles see in him?”

Derek shook his head. “I have given up trying to figure it out. They are kindred spirits. It's like they're on the same wavelength or something. The things they do together, to each other—it's just nuts.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Boyd was happy that Derek was finally getting to the juicy stuff. This is what Erica really wanted to know. It would ensure that Boyd could sleep in his own bed tonight, wrapped up tightly in the arms of his curious and determined mate.

“Do you remember when Stiles' classes started and Peter sat in on every single one of them, without telling Stiles ahead of time?”

“Yeah. I remember. That was classic creepy Peter.”

“It was.” Derek agreed. “And doing that was bad enough. But do you remember what Peter wore?”

Boyd hooted. “Now that you mention it, I do. He started wearing those plaid golf shorts with black socks and white athletic shoes.”

“Yeah. And do you know why he did that?”

Boyd shook his head. “No, I just remember hearing Stiles complain about it over and over again.”

“Right. That's why Peter did it, to drive Stiles crazy.”

“Why would he do that? I mean, what was the point? Peter has good fashion sense. Even Erica's mentioned it. When Peter wants to, he can look pretty bad ass. Why would he want to dress that way?”

Derek grinned. “After the first couple of weeks, one of Stiles classmates asked him who the creepy old dude was. Apparently Peter was being his normal self and making everyone uncomfortable.

“So then the classmate must of seen something in Stiles reaction and said, 'Oh sorry dude, is that your dad? Is he having trouble letting go?'

Boyd's mouth opened wide. “Aw man, that's harsh dude. Harsh.”

“Don't call me dude.” Derek replied immediately.

Boyd ignored him.

“So then,” Derek said. “Stiles says 'No, he's not my father. He's my daddy. My _sugar_ -daddy.' And Peter comes up and wraps a possessive hand around Stiles and says, 'Mmm, sugar-daddy. I like the sound of that, darling.' And the other student sort of freaks out or something and runs away as fast as he can.”

Derek stopped to take a breath and Boyd gestured for him to continue.

“So when they got home they were arguing over whether or not Peter looked old enough to be Stiles' father, and they discussed it _at length_ , until eventually they decided that Peter does indeed look old enough to be Stiles' father, and that Stiles finds that sexy.”

“Uh-huh.” Boyd said. “I always knew he was into kinky-shit. I guess he and Peter at least have that in common.”

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes flashed Alpha red for just a moment. “That is so true.”

“And then what happened?” Boyd asked, carefully trying not to take too deep of a breath so he wouldn't accidentally inhale the unmistakable scent of his Alpha's arousal.

“And then Peter was insulted so he started dressing like an old man in golf shorts and black socks and white tennis shoes.” Derek dropped his head, almost in defeat.

“And...” Boyd asked.

“And it drives Stiles out of his gourd to see Peter wearing black socks and white sneakers. To  Stiles it's like a personal attack upon his sense of propriety.  So Peter keeps doing it because it's making Stiles crazy and also sort of turning him on, and the two of them have a very strange relationship.”

“So Stiles thinks the black socks and white shoes are sexy?” Boyd asked, trying to understand.

Derek shrugged and threw his hands out wide. “I don't know Boyd. I have no fucking idea. What I do know is that Stiles started wearing the strangest socks he could find in retaliation, and referring to the incident as the Sock-Fetish-War of 2013.”

“I had noticed his socks had gotten kinda loud, but I didn't think much of it. I mean, it's Stiles we're talking about here.”

Derek snorted in agreement. “Yeah. And now they are having a sock war. They both wear socks all the time. Even in the shower. Even in the bedroom. _Especially_ in the bedroom. And they are doing things _with the socks,_ to each other. And trying to do things to me, Boyd. Things that you really do not want to know about. Things you can not even _imagine_. Trust me. You do not want to know.”

Boyd held up both of his hands as if to ward off the mental image of Peter and Stiles engaged in a kinky sock contest. “No man. Just. No. Don't tell me.”

Derek shot Boyd an evil grin. “It gets worse.”

“Nah man. Nah. I don't need to know.”

“Oh yes Boyd. Yes you do. You opened the flood gates. Now you can't leave until I've shared my burden.” Derek smirked.

Boyd groaned in defeat. “So what does this have to do with Iron Man and the Avengers?” He asked.

Derek took a swallow from his beer. “I'm getting to that part. So apparently Stiles has a thing for older men. He's hot for Agent Coulson and Peter is obsessively, compulsively jealous. And that is why Peter decided to attend classes with Stiles, so he could protect him from horny, immoral professors with ephebophelial tendencies. He reasoned that since Stiles was attracted to older men that he would be more vulnerable to their predatorial advances.”

“Of course.” Boyd said sarcastically. “I should have seen that. It's perfectly logical.”

“Well for Peter, it's perfectly logical.”

“Right. Peter-logic. I guess you've gotten pretty good at that over the years huh?”

“Good at what?” Derek asked.

“Figuring out Peter-logic.”

===

From the living room they heard a strained grunt from Peter. “It's upside down Stiles. Stiles! STILES! The other way.” Then a pause, and Peter practically purred. “Yes. Just. Like. That.”

===

Derek sighed and rubbed his hands through his stubble. “You still don’t know the half of it.”

“God man, you're scaring me. I am a strong independent black man and you are putting the fear of God in me.”

Derek laughed. “So I asked you. Do you know what day it is today?”

Boyd thought again then turned to Derek. “Nope. I can honestly say I do not know today is. Why don't you enlighten me.”

Derek looked at Boyd, eyes intense, expression blank. “It's September 24th Boyd. September fucking, twenty-fourth.” Derek punctuated each word by saying it slowly, drawing it out.

Boyd looked confused. “So. That's not the same as  September 11th. What the fuck happened on September the 24th? It's not the day Peter got killed, or resurrected. That happened later in the year. So I repeat. What the fuck happened on the 24th of September?

Derek groaned and buried his face in his hands. “It's not what happened, but what _is_ happening, right now, at this very moment, in the living room.”

Boyd pointed toward the rest of the living space. “You mean out there, in that living room?”

“Yes.” Derek said. “That living room.”

“You mean they're getting their sock freak on right out there in the living room? Where any unsuspecting beta could waltz through at any time?”

“Yup.” Derek said, popping the _p_ at the end. “Why do you think I'm holed up in the kitchen.?”

“Well damn!” Boyd said. “I guess I'm stuck here with you until Cora comes home.”

“Hopefully it won't take that long.” Derek said, hoping for the best, but knowing he would be disappointed.

“What if we have to go to the bathroom?” Boyd asked, squirming a little in his chair.

“Luckily, you can go out the other side of the kitchen, and reach the hallway to the bedrooms and the bathroom.”

“Good, that's a relief.” Boyd said, mollified somewhat that he wasn't as trapped as he had first thought. “Okay, so I get that today is significant and that it involves elements of the Sock-Fetish-War of 2013. What I don't get is how Agent Coulson fits into the whole picture.”

Derek took a long swallow of his beer, letting it gurgle down his throat to combat the desert of his mouth. “After Peter found out about Stiles' uncontrollable attraction to the Agent he told Stiles he couldn't watch any more movies or cartoons or play any games that had Agent Coulson in them. He told Stiles' that our home, his laptop and cellphone would all be Coulson-free zones.”

“Huh. I can imagine how Stiles took that news.” Boyd commented.

“Yeah. You can imagine.” Derek agreed. “Stiles was pissed. He tried to make Peter sleep on the couch. And when he wouldn't, then Stiles tried to sleep there himself. But Peter wouldn't stand for that so he waited until Stiles fell asleep and then picked him up and brought him back to bed and practically laid on top of him to keep him in place.”

“What did you do? While all this was going on?”

Derek sighed. “At first I tried to sleep. Then I tried to fuck them into exhaustion. Then I fell asleep myself and woke up to the two of them arguing again at 5 in the morning.”

“I feel for you buddy. Can't be easy on you.” Boyd thought about patting his Alpha's hand, but reconsidered. It wasn't a good idea to get too touchy-feely when Derek was in this kind of mood.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Finally they worked out a solution they could both live with. I believe they are referring to it as the Great Coulson Compromise of 2013.”

Boyd snickered quietly, eyes full of amusement. “Stiles is getting a lot out of his World History class this semester, isn't he?”

Derek nodded.

Boyd gestured for Derek to go on. “So what was the compromise? And how does it affect the sock boys today?”

Derek leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. He blinked his eyes and pulled his torso into a tight stretch. Settling back again he took a deep breath. “The compromise was that whenever Stiles watches movies or cartoons with Agent Coulson in them, whenever he plays games with Coulson as a character he has to do it with some part of Peter's body inside of him.”

Derek might have blushed at the last part, but Boyd wasn't positive and he wasn't going to press the matter.

Both men sat silently for a moment, listening to the unmistakeable sex sounds emanating from the living room.

“And Stiles was okay with that?” Boyd asked quietly.

“Yup.” Derek said, popping the _p_.

“Uh-huh.” Boyd said.

“Yup.” Derek said again. “And I'm pretty sure Stiles is happy with the compromise. I'm not positive, but I think it was Stiles who suggested it, and talked Peter into it.”

“Uh-huh.” Boyd said again. “Does Stiles know that Peter doesn't have the authority to take away his movies and his games? I mean, Peter's not his dad.”

“I'm pretty sure he knows that, yeah.” Derek gave Boyd a significant _look_.

“Huh.” Boyd said, then paused a moment. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that Stiles instigated this and actually manipulated Peter into doing this, reaching this compromise, in the first place?”

Derek looked at Boyd, eyes wide, features soft. “That's what I'm starting to think, yeah. Like I said, I try not to underestimate him. Peter may be manipulative, but Stiles. Stiles is downright devious.”

Boyd bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that. I can see Stiles getting a wild idea and then going forward with it, and none of you being any the wiser about it. Yeah. I can definitely see that.”

===

Stiles voice drifted from the other room. “Peter you are not this clumsy! You're being willful. Put it on like this, with your—there! Yes. Like that. See that wasn't so hard. Well it is hard, but—Oh god yes! That is just—YES!”

===

“So  Stiles manipulated Peter into the Great Coulson Compromise of 2013, and both he and Peter are satisfied with the middle ground they reached? Right, am I with you so far?”

“You've got it.”

“Okay, so what has that got to do with today, the twenty-fourth of September?” Boyd asked, genuinely stumped.

Derek sighed and slumped forward. Boyd took his empty beer bottle and handed him a fresh one. He even opened it for Derek because Boyd could be a nice guy when the circumstances warranted.

Derek said. “You know how in the fall season new TV shows premier?”

“Yeah.” Boyd said. “Erica is waiting for some new Dracula show, but it doesn't start until October. Guess they're hoping to catch the Halloween crowd.”

“Well tonight at 8pm the new Marvel show, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. premiered. And guess who's back from the dead?”

Boyd grinned. He couldn't help it. The smile lit up his face, made his eyes sparkle and showed off all of his pretty white teeth. “Agent Phil Coulson? Am I right?”

Derek scraped his hands over his face. “Yup.” He said, but this time he didn't pop the _p_.

Boyd was still grinning. “And it's going to come on every Tuesday for the rest of the year isn't it?”

“Yup” Derek said, defeated.

“And they're going to be getting their kinky compromise on in the living room every Tuesday night until summer.” Boyd hooted. “And they're going to try to get you in on the act. And you're not going to be able to say no are you?”

“Nope. They can be entirely too persuasive when they want to be. It's only a matter of time.”

Boyd snorted. Then he guffawed. Then he laughed so hard he almost snorted beer up his nose. “So this is why Erica sent me over here with her _condolences_.” Boyd paused briefly. “Damn she is a hell of a woman!” He added with a touch of pride.

===

A high pitched squeal echoed from the living room. “Agent Phil!” Stiles wailed, high pitched and breathy.

“Get back here you insolent child and be still.” Peter ordered gruffly.

===

Boyd chuckled. “You are so fucked.”

Derek gripped his beer like a lifeline. “Yup.” He said, popping the _p_.

“So what do you think they're actually doing in there? Got any ideas? Care to speculate?”

Derek shot a speculative look towards the living room, then glanced back at Boyd. “Are you asking because you're curious or so you have more gossip for Erica?”

“Does it really matter?” Boy asked.

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think Stiles is on his hands and knees watching his show, and that Peter is taking him hard, from behind. I think Stiles has a shit-eating-grin plastered on his face and that he is slowly, subtly making Peter so crazy that all my uncle can see, think about or even breathe in is Stiles. Which means the rest of the pack, the rest of the city, the rest of the world is safe from Peter's machinations, at least for the moment. And I think Stiles is loving every single minute of being the object of so much focus, so much affection and desire. I think the two of them are happier than they've ever been.”

“Huh.” Boyd said. “You may be right.”

===

A little while later Stiles and Peter stumbled into the kitchen, laden down with an empty pitcher and a bowl containing the residue of deep-fried okra and stuffed jalapeńos. Stiles was wearing one rainbow knee sock and one black dress sock. He had a tinfoil pirate hat on his head and an understated silk tie dangled from his neck, down around his bare torso. Luckily his Iron Man boxers were in place, if a little askew.

Peter wore one black sock and one rainbow sock. He had on red, white and blue Captain America boxers, an expensive white shirt that was buttoned incorrectly and sported a couple of bright orange stains on the chest. Over it he wore a dark grey suit jacket. Understated sunglasses perched on his nose and the fishing hat slouched on his head. They were both grinning.

Stiles greeted Boyd with a friendly smile as he toted the dirty dishes to the sink. “Heya big guy. You still here?”

Boyd rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah. The path to the front door was blocked, so I just waited until you guys were done.”

“Boyd” Peter said as he slipped past Boyd and opened the fridge.

“Peter.” Boyd said, forcing himself not to inhale any of the various scents wafting off of Peter.

“Derek,” Peter said. “Is there a reason you didn't show Boyd out the back door?”

Derek looked down when Boyd sent him the evil eye.

“The back door is working now? I thought it was still nailed shut until you could replace it and the frame!” Boyd said.

Peter took out a rotisserie chicken and set it on the counter near Stiles, who immediately ripped off a leg and took a big bite.

“Derek fixed it today I believe, didn't you dear nephew?” Peter said mildly.

Derek looked away. “Yes, I put in a new frame and hung the new back door this morning.”

Boyd glared at Derek in shock. “You mean there was an escape route all along and you made me stay and listen to them get their freak on anyway?”

Derek stared back at Boyd blankly. “This way you can give Erica the full scoop.” Derek deadpanned.

Stiles moved around the other men until he was behind Derek. He leaned forward, placed his arms around Derek's neck and offered the Alpha wolf a bite of his chicken leg, which he accepted.

“He probably just wanted a chaperone so he wouldn't be tempted to give up his sulking and join the festivities.” Stiles nuzzled into Derek's neck. “Isn't that right Grumpy Wolf?”

“Don't call me that.” Derek grumped. Stiles ignored him and kept on nuzzling. Derek turned his head into Stiles and took a deep breath, scenting Stiles' neck. As Derek released the breath his shoulder muscles relaxed and his throat rumbled contentedly, almost like a purr. Stiles put his tinfoil hat on Derek's head and Peter offered the Alpha another chicken leg. Derek accepted it with a frown.

Boyd cast a glance about him, eying the odd picture of domestic bliss facing him, and finished his last beer. He stood up and headed to the restroom down the hall.

When he returned Stiles was wrestling Derek's sweatpants off and Derek wasn't making it easy on him, but he wasn't resisting either. Boyd stopped in his tracks and looked his Alpha up and down. Under his sweats Derek was wearing Incredible Hulk boxer shorts and he had on blue socks decorated with little yellow ducks. He still wore Stiles' tinfoil hat.

Boyd shielded his eyes with his hands. It didn't help. There are some things that burn themselves into your eyeballs and you can never get rid of them. He was pretty sure this was one of those times. “Hey guys. I'm pretty sure Erica's looking for me by now. I'll show myself out.”

Stiles stood up and ran a quick hand through his hair while Peter manhandled Derek out of his t-shirt and out of the kitchen.

“Sure thing bud.” Stiles said to Boyd. “Tell Catwoman hey. Tell her thanks for the condolences, and  for keeping Derek busy while Peter and I did the run-through.” Stiles gestured back towards the living room.“We're uh—we're gonna watch it again, you know, with Derek this time.” Stiles voice rose with enthusiasm. “He is gonna love this show. There's a car, named Lola, and Ming-Na Wen plays a kick-ass hot chick, who Derek is going to cream over.”

“Yeah man, I get it. Gotta keep your boys happy.”

From the other room they could hear Peter's singsong voice. “Sti-iles. Hurry up. Derek won't let me start until you're in the room.”

Stiles flushed and threw one end of the tie over his shoulder like a scarf. “Duty calls.”

===

Boyd stumbled out the door and walked quickly to his half of the duplex. He did his best to blank out the entire evening, starting with the Sock War and ending with the Coulson Compromise. No wonder Cora scheduled her study nights for Tuesday. Fuck, he was going to start finding ways to be gone on Tuesday nights too. Those fuckers got up to some freaky shit.

He opened his own door and stepped inside.

“Lock it.” Erica ordered from the shadows in the hallway.

Boyd dutifully turned and locked the door. “I got the big scoop you were after.” He said as he clicked the lock and turned back around. He stopped in his tracks and caught his breath.

Erica stepped out of the shadows and into the light, where he could see her. “Close your mouth Boyd.” She sassed. “You'll catch flies.”

“Da-yum!” Boyd coughed, trying to shut his mouth and catch his breath all at once.

“Like what you see?” Erica asked, stretching prettily and turning around slowly so Boyd could take in the full effect.

She wore a skintight black latex Catwoman suit, complete with gloves, ears and tail. It fit her just right to accentuate all the goodness, wrapped up tightly in a pretty blonde package. She looked gorgeous!

But that wasn't what really surprised Boyd. No. What dropped his jaw to the floor and made his ass tighten with anticipation was the lime green strap on dildo she wore buckled to her hips and pelvis. Erica reached down to stroke it lovingly while licking her lips suggestively.

“I am so fucked.” Boyd said, when he regained control of his speech mechanism.

“Oh baby.” Erica cooed as she stalked nearer her prey. “You know I love it when you talk dirty.”

As Erica dragged Boyd back to her lair, which turned out to be their bedroom, Boyd wondered if Derek would be coming over the next day to offer his own condolences to Boyd. Then he licked his own lips and wondered if prostate stimulation felt as good as everyone said it did. Before the night was over, it was likely he would know the answer through first hand experience.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Blanket permission granted for derivative works including, but not limited to, fanart, podficing, incorporating plot or characters into new or additional works. I request a link back to this, the original work, but otherwise, have at it.


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